MONILIA

Irreverent arsenic of lake bottom 
was seeping in me 
I was riding on waves, moon-stuck. 

The nude shot 
of anemone, blindfolded 
after the criminal assault. 
Why they were throwing the lewed comments? 

A raw cave 
of white pain, drags the deity out 
and dances on hawthorns. 
The butchers become sick, 
sick to the bones. 

O democracy, king was not wise, 
wise was not king.

Satish Verma